Divide and Conquer
by Blue-Jackal
Summary: CID are left stunned when Alex is injured in a deliberate hit & run. While her colleagues support her, a certain person from Discipline and Complaints sees it as a golden opportunity.
1. No Warning

_This little fic has floated about on my laptop for several weeks now and I finally decided, what the heck, lets upload it._

_This came from a little idea, which grew into a train of thought, where I wondered just how the team would react if something happened to Alex... Inspired partly, it must be said, by the legendary rantandrumour and her genre of 'being mean to Alex'._

_I would love some feedback on this because I have ideas of where I want this to go, who has to do what, and what has to happen...And I'd like to know if people would like to read more, especially now the show is over._

_Thanks to the fabulous rantandrumour from Luigis for beta-ing and thinking up the title (I see you didn't exactly rush to help Alex) :p_

**Divide and Conquer**

**Chapter 1 - No warning.  
**

"So it's all set then?" he asked from where he sat in the prison cell, his foot soldiers surrounding him in a council of war.

"Our agent is in place and waiting, watching, at Fenchurch East," the stocky ex police officer answered.

The leader of the group nodded, he was satisfied that all the pieces were now in place as ordered.

"It's all good to go," one of his lieutenants nodded in confirmation. "Just give the word."

The prisoner sat back on his bunk, his seat of power, looking at his loyal followers standing before him. He may have lost his freedom, but he still had his influence in the criminal underworld and the world of bent Masons.

DCI Carnegie nodded to the second in command in his gang. "The word is given. Make sure it's done, and properly."

The second nodded and left the cell. Carnegie smiled in cold satisfaction as his plan was now set in motion.

"But sir," one of his lower ranking foot soldiers - a former PC of his - cut in. "Wouldn't it be easier to just take Hunt out of the equation completely?"

Carnegie leaned forward and got to his feet, placing a hand on his junior protégés shoulder.

"No lad, it's all about power plays in this game," Carnegie explained. "It's about showing who's boss."

"How though sir?" the young criminal asked.

"Hunt thinks he has me beaten," Carnegie said with distaste. "I am going to show him that ain't the case."

"So you're not going to have him killed?" The junior was confused.

"No, I want Hunt to witness this," Carnegie said with a nod of approval. "I want him to know this is our payback for messing up Operation Rose."

"I see." The young former PC was impressed. "So you're going to hit him where it hurts most?"

"Indeed lad." Carnegie agreed. "The way to hurt Hunt is to hit Drake."

* * *

"No!" Gene walked briskly through the corridors of the Fenchurch East police station.

"But if you just listen to me Guv." His D.I was just a step behind him with a point to prove.

"Not listening Bolly!" The D.C.I mockingly placed his hands over his ears as he made for the exit of the building.

"Guv, we've been watching this guy for weeks," Alex explained as she followed Gene through the station. "The cars this dealer sells are all dodgy, every one of them, and probably dangerous too!"

Gene stopped in his tracks and turned back to Alex. "Bolls, it ain't happening." Gene shook his head. "So stop talking."

"Listen to me Guv!" Alex continued regardless. "We put the Quattro on false plates, send someone in with it undercover, make him think it's stolen, that it's a hot motor, and see how much he gives us for it."

"No!" Gene protested again.

"We then watch the premises and see what he does with it," Alex continued with her plan. "If he is dodgy he'll try and get shot of it ASAP to the highest buyer because he knows the car is hot and worth a lot cash in hand, and then we go in".

"Are you not listening to me Drake?" Gene shook his head. "You are not, N-O-T, not passing my car onto a dodgy dealer in stolen motors!"

"But Guv, can't you see?" Alex continued with determination. "This is exactly the sort of car he'd jump at!"

"He could do anything to it!" Gene protested. "Re-spray it, break it up... Christ, he could even take it out and plough it into a building! N.O. No!"

"You know this will work Guv," Alex assured him.

"Alex," Gene sighed with frustration. "If you wanna set up a sting with a red Audi Quattro, then fine, knock yourself out, but go buy your own. A man's car is his castle! Now are you coming to Luigi's or what?"

Alex shrugged. "Well, as long as you know I'm right on this"

"Oh shut it," Gene huffed mockingly at his D.I. "Or I'll make you get the first round in"

With the debate clearly settled in Gene's favour the two officers walked towards the main entrance of the Police station and left the building. Alex proceeded across the road but stopped momentarily as Gene diverted.

"Where you going?" she enquired from the kerb as the nearby Police Ford Granada started its engine, adding to the sounds of the street.

"Just locking my car and making sure the keys are ON my person." Gene nodded accusingly in Alex's direction. "Got to after your ridiculous suggestion"

"Whatever." Alex shook her head and continued across the road in the direction of Luigi's without Gene. "You can catch up," she called, "You're still getting the first round in."

The screech of tyres and roar of the engine had gone unnoticed by the two sparring police officers until too late.

"Alex!" Gene shouted in horror as he looked up from locking the Quattro.

Neither had seen it pull out - the rapid departure of police cars being hardly out of the ordinary at Fenchurch East. What had been out of the ordinary, however, was that it had flashed no blue lights and sounded no siren. The marked Police Granada had accelerated sharply, the car pulling away from the side of the road in a split second and veering at speed towards its target. Within moments it had hit it's intended victim, striking Alex from behind. The force sent her crashing onto the vehicles bonnet with a crash of person meeting metal. The Granada then slammed on its breaks, stopping with a screech and catapulting Alex like a rag doll from the car and onto the hard surface of the road. Alex hit the ground hard and came to a crumpled rest lying on her side.

Gene immediately ran as fast as he could in horror at the sight before him. He crashed to his knees at Alex's side, his overwhelming concern for his D.I numbing all other cares as the footsteps of the now fleeing Granada driver faded into the distance.

Alex's eyes were partially open but not focussed as she lay in the road, blood smearing her grazed face.

Gene's gloved hand gently touched Alex's shoulder, careful not to move her, yet constantly reassuring her with his presence.

"Urgent assistance required!" Gene bellowed into the radio he pulled from his pocket. "Ambulance now! Outside the station! Hit and run. Drake's hurt! Hurry!"

"I'm on it," a voice confirmed. "It'll be here as fast as it can Guv!".

Gene let his radio drop to the road upon hearing that help was on its way. Until it arrived, he had to keep Alex warm and reassured. With a swift move, he took off his black overcoat and placed it protectively over Alex like a blanket.

Gene leant forwards on his knees, leaning over Alex and placing his gloved hand over her own as it lay weakly on the hard road by her face, her fingers grazed from hitting the ground hard.

"S'alright Drake", Gene assured his injured D.I. "Help's coming, just hang in there...can you talk Alex?"

He looked down at her face. It was obvious to Gene that Alex was fighting not to close her eyes, struggling to focus on anything around her.

She breathed something faint and Gene leant closer over her, his ear just above her face, struggling to hear.

"Don't try and move Alex!" Gene ordered. "Where does it hurt?"

Again Alex struggled to communicate, her breaths shallow and clearly filled with pain. "Can't..."

"Can't? Can't what?" Gene's concern grew. "Can't breathe? Can't what?"

Alex let out a sharp pained breath, too weak to even vocalise a mere whimper.

"Stay with me Alex!" Gene ordered. "Focus on my voice, where does it hurt?"

"Legs..."

"Your legs hurt?" Gene checked. It was difficult to understand her, her voice was growing weaker all the time.

"No..."

"Alex? Where does it hurt? The ambulance will need to know!" Gene urged. He held her weak hand tighter in his own, as if the pressure would give her something to focus on to stay conscious.

"Legs..." Alex breathed again, barely audible.

"Could be broken," Gene nodded. "So don't try and move".

"Can't...move" Alex rasped, a tone of panic enveloping her every breath."Can't...feel...legs. Gene...I can't..."

Gene's heart rate increased as the truth of Alex's pained whispers hit him and he realised what she was trying so hard to communicate. She couldn't feel her legs.

His mind raced as the facts sank in. First fear. Then panic. Then Alex. He knew she was hurt the moment he saw her hit the ground, but to not be able to feel her legs?

"S'okay." Gene spoke with a false calm reassurance. "Don't you worry, just keep them breaths coming Bolls. We're going to get you to the hospital and get you seen to by them magical doctors. I just need to you to stay with me, you understand Bolls?"

His heart sank as he looked down at the broken form of Alex before him. Her eyes had drifted almost entirely shut and he knew she was fading fast from consciousness. The only comfort was the sound of a rapidly approaching siren as the ambulance, street by street, got nearer.

* * *

He didn't bother to even try and suppress the grin as he looked down upon the scene from a window three floors up in the police station.

Several uniformed officers had now appeared. One was photographing the damaged Granada for use as evidence, another was redirecting traffic away from the station, and there were several others shooing onlookers away.

All the time he watched as Hunt simply knelt by his damned DI, offering reassurance and warmth.

In truth, he was annoyed. Not that this unforseen incident had occurred, but that Hunt had been with her and would inevitably stay with her to the hospital and then her bedside.

Approaching the scene right now would be pointless. Hunt was always volatile at times like this.

The ever present grin widened to one of glee as Jim Keats formed an idea.

He watched as the ambulance arrived and its personnel rushed to Alex.

"D&C...," he chuckled to himself as he turned away to head back to his office. "...Divide and conquer."

End chapter one...


	2. The Terrible Truth

_Wow! I've been so pleased with the reviews for chapter 1! Wasn't sure if people would be interested in this as, plot wise, it's a bit different. So thanks everyone!_

_Thanks also to rantandrumour from Luigis for suggestions, medical explanations and for being a great Beta! I will raid your brain for info again I'm sure._

**Divide and Conquer.**

**Chapter 2 - The terrible truth.**

This was uncertainty. He didn't like uncertainty. He didn't like this place either. The hospital walls were all a clinical white with the occasional notice board full of posters. Hesitation was another thing Gene didn't like. But today, since speaking to Alex's doctor, he had felt both uncertainty and hesitation in large doses.  
It had been two days since Alex had been run down by the police car and the past two days had become the two of the longest days of Gene's life. He had spent most of those two days splitting his time between pacing up and down the hospital corridors harassing medical staff for information and briefly returning to CID to oversee the investigation and yell at his troops to work harder on the case.

It had been late this morning when the doctor had asked to speak to Gene and now Gene knew the extent of Alex's injuries. The news had been hard to digest at first and Gene had been thankful for the close proximity of his hipflask, not that it had done much to soften the blow. The doctor had wanted to give Alex the news himself but Gene had objected, strongly. He was convinced that Alex had to hear this from someone she knew, someone she trusted, not some berk in a white coat who probably thought of this as being 'all in a day's work'.  
He glanced down once more at the medical report in his hand with a deep hope that its pages might be wrong. He knew it wasn't. He had seen the car hit Alex and remembered her hurt words to him in the moments immediately afterwards.  
He reached into his overcoat and took his hipflask out once more. Its contents did nothing to help the situation but it did at least steady his nerves.  
Alex was no longer under sedation. She was tired, sleeping much and under heavy medication, but she was no longer being kept unconscious. Gene knew it wouldn't be too long before she would start asking questions... Questions to which she would need answers, and answers which he had taken it upon himself to give.  
Gene sank one more deep mouthful of scotch. It was time.

Gene approached the door to Alex's hospital room and gave it a gentle push. He was trying to be respectful, to not make much noise, as if that would somehow help the situation. With a deep breath he stepped into the room and closed the door gently behind him, looking up as he did so to see Alex before him.  
There she was.  
The hospital room was small, clean and modern- only the best- and all paid for by the Met.  
Gene moved the few steps towards Alex, stepping gently so as not to disturb her. Slowly, he pulled a chair nearer the bed and sat down, not saying a word, just taking in the sight before him.  
Alex lay in the hospital bed, her eyes closed and her breathing steady. Any other time Gene would have admired how peaceful Alex appeared as she slept; it was a change from shouting her disapproval at a decision or spouting her psycho-bollocks at him.  
But not now. Gene's attention was drawn to the deep grazes on Alex's face, and the bruising that ran down the left side where she had hit the road. His eyes ran slowly down her body, finally drawing to the outline of her still legs tucked neatly in under the sheets of the hospital bed.  
Gene leant forwards, gently taking Alex's hand in his own. He noted her knuckles too were grazed from the impact, and gave her hand a light squeeze as he contemplated the sight of the smashed D.I before him.  
It was a good moment or two before Gene realised that he had heard the sound, a change in the steady breathing before him. It had been almost too faint to hear. He looked up from gazing at her injured hand, looking to Alex. Her eyes were now slightly open, struggling to focus through the weariness and medication.  
"Bolly..." Gene called with a gentleness rarely heard, "Bolls..."  
He watched as Alex wearily blinked a couple more times as her surroundings began to come into focus.  
"Come on, you've had 'angovers worse than that," Gene urged, attempting to regain his usual flippancy as if nothing was wrong. He had to be the strong one.

Alex slowly drew her free hand up to her face, rubbing her weary eyes. The aches through her body were like nothing she had ever felt before. Slowly, as her eyes adjusted, the unfamiliar world around her came into focus. White. The room was white. There was a drip in her other arm. Hospital. This was a hospital. Gene. Gene was there, his hand holding hers. If Gene was there then this wasn't 2008. If this wasn't 2008, then something must have happened to her in 1983.  
A car. A road. Being on the ground. Everything was like patchwork in Alex's memory. She slowly looked to Gene's face where he sat next to her, tiredness and anxiety etched onto his expression.  
"Bolls, do you know where you are?" She listened to the voice. "Do you remember what happened?"  
Alex turned her head further on the crisp pillow and looked to Gene, searching for her answers.  
"Bolly, do you remember anything?"  
It took Alex a moment, her voice not having been used for two days, "Not much." Her answer came as barely more than a whisper. She saw the angst and hesitation in Gene's face. Would he explain? She needed to know! She tried piecing together the fragments in her memory. "Car? A road?"  
"Hit and run Bolls," Gene explained with regret clear in his voice. "Bastard jumped in a police car, keys were still in it, hit you full on."  
Alex closed her eyes as the information sank in, her mind still cloudily from the medication given for her pain. With Gene's words the memory slowly returned. She remembered sparring with Gene about the Quattro, crossing the road, the warning being shouted, an engine roaring. Everything after that was a blur of images, the impact of the car and the spiralling view from being hurled off the Granada's bonnet.  
The sound of Gene getting to his feet, the chair scraping backwards, caused Alex to open her eyes again.  
Gene paced to the end of the room, facing away from Alex and then back again. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he paced, something he always did when he was agitated or uncomfortable with a situation.  
"Look Bolls, they think you're gonna be here a while," Gene finally said it as he halted next to Alex.  
She saw the look on his face. This wasn't the usual Gene Hunt. This was a Gene Hunt with a considerable weight on his shoulders.  
"How long?" Alex asked through her tiredness, looking to Gene for her much needed answers.  
She watched as Gene sat down again, pulling his chair nearer the bed.  
"Bolly," he began in an unusually gentle tone. "Alex..."  
Alex lay there as Gene again took her hand, her own body tensing slightly as she read Gene's body language. She could tell, she knew a bombshell was about to be dropped, she had been in Gene's position too many times not to notice.  
"Bolls, you took quite a hit. The car. It hit you from behind, hard... Too hard." Gene was trying to explain as coherently as possible.  
"How bad?" Alex urged, bracing herself yet needing to know.  
"In the road, you said summin'. You were hurt Bolls, your back," Gene explained. "Look, the docs have operated but they say you might not...or at least it might take time..."  
It was then that the realisation suddenly dawned on Alex. She had been too groggy to notice when she had come too from her sleep, the medication having numbed her to the point where she was only aware of aches from bruises.  
"Oh my God...Gene..." Alex reacted as the truth sank in. She felt her heart race with the horror of the realisation and felt as Gene now took her hand in both of his for comfort.  
"I know Bolls, I know..." Gene sounded as reassuming as possible, "Look I don't pretend to understand the medical jargon but the impact... they said it injured your spinal cord."  
"No," Alex said, almost begging as she felt her eyes begin to grow moist with tears.  
"They said it's not severed," Gene continued. "So there is hope!"  
"This can't be," Alex felt the tear roll from her eye."Gene I've got too much to do, I can't be like ...this..."  
"Bolly, they won't know anything for sure yet, it's too soon." Gene was attempting to calm her. "You gotta rest up, heal, give your back a chance to recover."  
"No, Gene this isn't possible." Alex shook her head slightly, always unwilling to admit defeat. "This was never part of the plan."

Alex turned her face away from Gene, looking down the form of her body as best she could from where she lay almost flat. She could see the bump of the bed sheets outlining her legs. They were there, looking perfectly normal as far as she could see. Yet there was no feeling, no sensation. The only sensation Alex could feel was a terrible pain constantly gnawing at her lower back.  
"Move," Alex willed her legs. "Just move, please..."  
There was no response, her injured body defying her, and Alex realised it was useless. She took a deep breath, trying to prevent it, but it was no good. Alex raised her free hand once again and ran the back of her hand over her eyes, trying to hide the tears which were about to fall in abundance, but the tears came anyway. It was then that Gene placed Alex's hand back down softly at her side, a little more of the 'old Gene' re-emerging on his face.  
"Look Drake, you've been hit by a car, you've been seriously injured and you might not walk again," Gene announced. "Now I think that's as shit as you do, so I need you to snap out of the self pity because, to use your own psycho-bollocks against you, you're in denial."  
"How do you expect me to react Gene?" Alex sobbed through her frustration. "I can't feel my legs, Gene, I can't move my legs!"  
"I know Bolls, I know," Gene admitted with reluctance.  
The two sat in silence for several moments, Alex wiping the occasional tear.  
"Here," Gene spoke.  
Alex looked to Gene's side of the bed and saw him handing her a tissue from a box on the small table beside her bed. Gratefully she took it and dabbed it on her eyes, wiping her tears as best she could.  
"What am I going to do Gene?" she finally asked, her voice filled with despair. She watched Gene think for a moment, considering his answer.  
"What you're gonna do Bolls is fight. I know you're upset, and that's fine, but I need you to use every ounce of that pain in the arse determination of yours and put your mind firmly on recovering", Gene encouraged from where he sat.  
Alex simply listened, almost too numb for encouragement.  
"Now I know it might take a while, and it's gonna be a long hard slog, but you're gonna get there Bolls," Gene continued. "You will walk again and don't you dare think otherwise."  
"But what if I don't Gene?" Alex worried.  
She looked down towards her legs again. She watched them just lying there, not moving and felt nothing but a deep shame envelop her.  
"Gene, I don't want to be..." She couldn't bring herself to say it. She couldn't say it. It wasn't her, it was something that happened to other people, "Paralysed." The word tasted dirty to Alex, as if it couldn't be used to describe her.  
"You're getting too upset," Gene had observed, "Maybe you should rest now."  
"You'll need a new DI," Alex continued. "What use is a cripple?"  
Gene shook his head. "Don't even think that way."  
"Even if I get some feeling back, I might not recover fully Gene." Alex continued to dwell on the negative implications of her situation.  
"Just stop it Alex, please", Gene urged. "You're not helping yourself by thinking like this"  
"And if I can't walk again then I'll be stuck in a wheelchair." Alex again raised her tissue to her eyes.  
No reply came from Gene.  
Through her tears Alex saw Gene simply watching her, his sadness showing clear in his eyes as Alex stopped talking and simply cried.  
After a moment, Gene's hand moved forwards and simply stroked Alex's cheek as she sobbed.  
He seemed to just sit there, not speaking for some time, as if words were no longer required.  
As he sat, and Alex sobbed, Gene simply stroked Alex's cheek repeatedly and calmingly, occasionally stopping to brush a small wisp of her hair from her forehead.  
With Gene's soothing touch, Alex eventually felt her eyes growing weary again. She was tired, this was true, and it had been so much to take in so suddenly. She lay there looking to Gene but before long her eyes gradually drifted shut as her injured body's need for sleep called out to her once again.  
"Shhhh... Whatever happens Bolls, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Gene hushed her so soothingly. "But right now, I'm gonna sit here, and you're just gonna cry. And when you've done that you're gonna go to sleep. I just want you to rest. Go on..."

End Chapter 2...


	3. Sewing the seeds of doubt

Once again, a big thankyou to rantandrumour from Luigis for beta-ing! Fankoo!

**Divide and Conquer**

**Chapter 3**

Staring at the plain ceiling was becoming tiresome already and it became more so as the hours dragged by. Alex had had an awkward night. She had only slept intermittedly. Her mind being in turmoil and the constant back pain had caused her to wake repeatedly through the night.  
She knew she wanted to sleep. She was tired in both body and mind but it seemed that sleep just wasn't to be.  
During these periods of being awake, Alex had repeatedly tried to move her unresponsive legs. She knew it was irrational but she knew she had to try. It was the only way she would ever convince herself of her predicament.  
She lay there concentrating time and time again, desperately willing her legs to receive even the tiniest of signals from her brain, but there was nothing. No feeling, no sensation. It was as if her legs were simply no longer there. The feeling of failure each time her legs failed to move only served to reinforce Alex's sense of helplessness.  
She had long since lost track of how many times she had woken up during the night. Each time she looked to her side as best she could to see the small digital clock on the bedside table indicating that it was only half an hour or so since she had last looked.  
Alex had thought through the night about where she would normally be. If she hadn't been struck by the car she would be back at her flat, curled up under her warm blue blanket with a cushion beneath her head in her usual sleeping place - her sofa.  
Rarely did Alex ever opt to sleep in her own bed, warm and comfortable as it was. The danger of missing vital messages seeping in from the real world through her television was too great, and she had become so accustomed to the sofa that sleeping on it now seemed normal. And when she did sleep in her own bed, she knew she was a fidgety sleeper - always dreaming and rolling over.  
Now she couldn't even do that.  
Several times in the night during her drowsier moments Alex had automatically tried to roll over, only for her body to remind her that she was no longer capable of doing even that.  
In these dark moments with no light in her room except for the moonlight through the blinds, Alex felt like a fool. She was angry, she was crushed. She was sad and devastated. More humiliatingly, she was helpless, stuck lying on her back in this hospital bed and unable to do anything for herself, requiring assistance for everything.  
She wondered if the hit and run had been intended to kill her. Perhaps it would have been better if it had. At least it wouldn't have taken long. This surely had to be worse.  
She didn't agree with police taking the law into their own hands but a part of Alex was enraged at having her freedom and independence snatched from her in such a way. She had to admit that a small part of her wouldn't object if the person who did this to her was ever caught and left alone with Gene and Ray for ten minutes - something she would normally strongly object to.  
Yet another part of her wondered just what the point was of getting angry. What possible good was it going to achieve? She knew grief, anger and tears were a perfectly normal reaction. She was a psychologist, of course she knew these things, but knowing it didn't make it any easier to come to terms with.  
Alex sighed hopelessly. At the very least, she wanted to be able to sit up, to brush her hair, to put a little make up on so that she at least appeared reasonably presentable.  
She looked at the clock again. 02:19.  
This was going to be a long dark night.

Alex's eyes fluttered open again slowly. There was light. It was morning. Alex reasoned that she must have eventually drifted off to sleep at some point during her restless night.  
She didn't really want to wake up. What was there to wake up for? It wasn't as if she could get up and do anything. She knew the nurses would be in to see her at some point to tend to her needs and give her a wash - another humiliation.  
Alex closed her eyes again, her vision falling back into darkness once more. Her back was already greeting her with the pain she was slowly but reluctantly becoming accustomed to. It would be better if she went back to sleep before the pain got any worse.  
"Good morning Alex."  
She opened her eyes. She hadn't realised there was another person in the room.  
"I'm sorry. I let myself in," the figure sitting next to the bed announced apologetically. "I didn't mean to startle you."  
Alex turned her head towards her visitor, her neck aching from lying in one position for several days.  
DCI Keats sat confidently in the chair beside Alex's bed, the very same chair formerly occupied by Gene. Alex looked up at him. Keats's intense stare was almost unnerving for someone who had just woken up. She watched as he reached down and picked something up from next to his seat.  
"Here," Keats said offering a paper bag to Alex.  
Alex took the bag and reached inside it with curiosity from where she lay.  
"I appreciate that you probably have very little to do all day Alex," Keats explained. "So I took the liberty of picking you up some magazines on the way in. I know it's not much but it should give you something to focus your mind on for a while."  
"That's very kind sir," Alex responded gratefully as she removed the half a dozen magazines from the bag and looked through their various titles.  
She really was grateful. Lying in her hospital bed had long since become tedious. Her frustration and boredom was only ever broken by the appearance of her doctor coming to examine her and check for any return of feeling or sensation or a nurse coming to take care of her, or see if she needed anything. The only other welcome interruption until now had been Gene, the rest of CID working flat out on tracking Alex's attacker.  
She placed the magazines gently down by her side on the bed, easily within her reach. She would begin reading them later, relieved that now she at least had something to do other than stare at the ceiling.  
"I just came to see how you were," Keats announced. "You're a vital member of this team Alex, and I'm keeping an open mind about this hit and run...'incident', shall we say?"  
Alex took in the sight of her visitor. There was something about the way he had said the word 'incident' that was odd.  
"I suppose you must know how I am sir," Alex reluctantly answered looking once again to the ceiling with a sigh. "Fractured spine, the T8 vertebra to be exact. It must all be in the case file by now."  
Keats nodded slowly and silently, removing his glasses, as he did so. "I am so sorry Alex. This should never have happened to one of our finest officers."  
Alex nodded slightly. She certainly wished it had never happened. "Are there any leads yet? Anything at all?"

"No. Nothing at all. It's very disappointing," Keats replied. "I would have expected better, especially with the victim being one of our own officers, but I suppose I should have expected as much from Hunt's department."  
Alex sighed, disappointed that even here and now Keats was using her situation to snipe at Gene.  
"It is early days sir," she reminded her senior officer from her bed. "Breakthroughs don't always come right away."  
She watched as Keats hesitated for a moment, as if pondering whether or not to speak. "As I said, DCI Hunt is handling this case but I have certain...certain lines of enquiry I wish to pursue myself."  
Alex was intrigued. What leads could there be to follow that Keats would want to investigate on his own?  
"Do you have a suspicion?" she asked. The thought of the perpetrator being brought to justice was a very small consolation but it was still news that would cheer her up at least a little.  
"It's nothing." Keats shook his head and placed his glasses back on as if changing his mind. "I forget you're not on the case. No, you take it easy and recover. As soon as there is the slightest bit of information you will be the first to know. I promise you that, Alex."  
"Sir," Alex pressed the issue. "If you suspect someone or something then please, you must liase with DCI Hunt."  
Keats paused for a moment. He looked Alex over, his eyes making a point of wandering down to her paralysed legs and lingering there as if contemplating. Finally he leant forwards, leaning his arms on the edge of the bed, his face close to Alex and spoke quietly into her ear.  
"Well that's just the trouble isn't it Alex?" he whispered in a tone as cold as ice. "I can't tell the officer whom I suspect, can I now?"  
Alex said nothing for several moments, disbelief overwhelming her at what she took to be an absurd accusation. He had to be joking, surely? She watched as Keats simply sat up and leant back in his chair, casually crossing one leg over the other as he gauged the injured DIs reaction.  
"You don't seriously suspect Gene?" Alex asked with surprise clear in her voice.  
"Look at the facts Alex!" Keats emphasised. "Look at what you've been doing lately!"  
"How do you mean?" Alex quizzed.  
"Your investigation into the death of DI Tyler has rattled Hunt time and time again. Keats spoke more forcefully now. "And the deeper you have dug Alex, the angrier he has gotten! I've seen it." He paused, letting the words sink in. "You've seen it."  
"No," Alex disagreed from where she lay. "This is ridiculous"  
"The pair of you," he said, ignoring her, intent on continuing to hammer his point home. "You've fought like cat and dog lately. You can't deny this Alex."  
"With respect sir-" Alex paused with a grimace as her back surged with pain yet again and she had to take a moment to let it pass. "With respect sir, we always bicker."  
"Oh this isn't bickering Alex." Keats shook his head. "Where has the famous chemistry gone between you two?"  
Alex said nothing, too amazed at the accusation to even think of a response.  
"Face it Alex. DCI Hunt had Sam Tyler killed. Now you've got too close to the truth and he's tried to have you killed too, only the attempt failed and put you here." The certainty in Keats's voice was absolute.  
"No, that's not possible Sir," Alex defended Gene. "He was first on scene after the car hit me. He did everything he could to keep me safe until the ambulance arrived. I tell you, Gene had nothing to do with this."  
"First on the scene?" Alex felt her anger rise as Keats actually laughed at the suggestion. "First on the scene? He wasn't with you in the road though was he? No, DCI Hunt was safely at the side of the road, wasn't he Alex? Letting you go on ahead? Wasn't he?"  
"Sir you have this all wrong." Alex's frustration was building and she felt herself growing tense. She would have argued more, but her back surged with pain once again, freezing her. It felt as if every single nerve was on fire. She let out an involuntary whimper and saw Keats pause momentarily in his rant as he watched her intently.  
After a few moments of agony, Alex's pain subsided once again to a level she now thought of as normal and she let out a pained breath.  
"Shhhh...This is upsetting you." Keats leant forwards again placing a hand gently on Alex's shoulder, his thumb soothingly stroking her through her hospital gown.  
"Sir," Alex spoke more quietly, the pain clearly agitating her. "You are wrong about Gene."  
"Try not to get angry Alex," Keats said with a voice filled with reassurance. "All I ask is that you think over the facts. I just want you to see in the end, like I want them all to see."  
Alex listened, the encounter having tired her more than she had realised. She just wanted him to go, to leave her in peace.  
"Did DCI Hunt come in here acting the hero?" Keats began again.  
Alex reluctantly waited for more. There was always more with Keats.  
"Did he come in here full of reassurance? Did he assure you that you would make a full recovery?"  
"Of course he did," Alex agreed. "Gene is a decent man."  
"No Alex." Jim shook his head with a look of sadness. "That's where you are sadly mistaken."  
"What makes you say this?" Alex demanded.  
"Look at your situation Alex!" Keats pleaded.  
Alex looked away momentarily, reminded once again of her shame at being bedridden in this hospital.  
"I don't need reminding sir."  
"And that's why you should beware of Hunt! He brings you false hope of a recovery but Alex, you need to face facts, the real facts," Keats urged.  
"And they are..?"  
"The facts are Alex, you have a fractured T8 vertebra that damaged your spinal cord, and sadly, there is a high chance that you're not going to walk again. You'll need care, rehabilitation, therapy." Keats listed as if these were casual facts. "And the biggest fact of all is that it was Hunt who put you here. Again."  
"No, no he didn't." Alex shook her head. "Gene gives me hope."  
"Blessed are the destroyers of false hope, for they are the true messiahs."  
"Bible quote?" Alex guessed.  
"Of a kind," Keats agreed. "I'm just saying that Hunt is offering all this support in an effort to cover the tracks of his own involvement," the DCI continued. "He's already shot you once Alex! Now he's tried to have you killed, he's crippled you, yet you still trust this man?"  
"Sir...Please stop...I'm tired," Alex pleaded. She _was_ tired. She was also hurting and this was becoming too much.  
"Alright," Keats reluctantly agreed to her request.  
Alex nodded a small thanks. She just wanted him gone and her room back to her lone self.  
"But be assured Alex, I am here for you." Keats stood, placing his hand briefly over Alex's.  
"All I ask is that you think over what I've said," Keats urged as he turned to leave. "And that you at least beware of Hunt."  
"Thank you for stopping by sir," Alex nodded, dismissing Keats's request as if it had never been said.

Keats left the room solemnly and stepped out into the hospital corridor. He stopped momentarily, closing the door behind him quietly. His mission here today was done and he was quite satisfied that he had achieved his objectives. He took a deep breath, puffing himself up confidently and then walked away down the corridor, his solemn and concerned expression giving way instead to a grin of satisfaction.  
Yes, it had all worked well. He knew Drake had dismissed his suggestions, but he also fully understood how she worked.

Keats strode in the direction of the exit, all the time contemplating what would happen next. He knew Alex would think. It was what she always did. She would think and analyse to the point where it would be her undoing...and Hunt's.  
He had planted the seeds of doubt well. He had demonstrated that he was on her side by bringing her the gift of the magazines. Just a small gesture, but enough to win her confidence. Only then had he carefully seeded her mind with doubt by accusing Gene.  
She wouldn't believe it at first. He knew that for sure. Their bond was too strong to break straight away. But he also knew she would think about it, over and over, until the seeds of doubt began to bloom into something bigger.  
The grin returned again. He had spent weeks in CID carefully 'grooming' Alex into doubting Gene, and this hit and run, as unforeseen as it had been, would make it even easier to turn her against him.  
Passing through the exit of the hospital, Keats retrieved his Datsun keys from his pocket and headed to his car.  
It had been a good day. Efficient and productive. He was pleased.

End Chapter 3

_** If anyone is wondering where Keats alleged Bible quote is from - The quote "Blessed are the destroyers of false hope, for they are the true messiahs" is actually a quote from the Satanic Bible. It seemed to fit Keats perfectly!_


End file.
